


Whole

by Potatomuff



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Boys In Love, Connor Deserves Happiness, M/M, Soulmates, Tree Gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 08:19:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potatomuff/pseuds/Potatomuff
Summary: A story showing that love isn't always as seamless as one might think."You brought me sunshine when I only saw rain. You brought me laughter when I only felt pain."-Donna Donathan





	Whole

Evan Hansen was hopeless.  
You see, everybody was born with a mark of some sort. An identifying mark meant to help you track down your soulmate.  
It could be anything, ranging from identical port wine birthmarks, something as obvious as the other's name or a nickname, even to something as insignificant as a microscopic symbol meant to help you identify “the one".  
This was all fine and dandy, except for one thing. 

Evan Hansen, the anxious kid who already had too much on his plate, didn't have one.  
He didn't have a mark.  
It was extremely uncommon and extremely disappointing.  
His mom said that it was a sign that he had to take matters into his own hands and find his soulmate on his own.  
That it was supposed to be his own big adventure! 

Evan didn't quite agree. 

He figured it meant that the universe had taken one look at him and realized just how broken he was. That it has taken pity on whoever had been destined to be his soulmate and had changed its mind.  
Nobody deserved to be with somebody as screwed up as him. 

But life went on. When confronted about his mark (or lack thereof), he simply shrugged and stammered out some excuse for not wanting to show it, fumbling for various cover stories until whoever had asked finally got bored enough to give up.

He had told very few people. His mom knew, of course, and so did his best friend Jared. Or...family friend. Was there really a difference?  
Jared had his own mark, a small collection of lines running along his collarbone. He had yet to find the one but at least he had a relatively distinguishable mark that he could compare to other people's. 

Evan had nothing.  
Evan had no one. 

 

•°•°•

Connor was royally fucked from the moment he was born. He didn't have a mark. The one thing you were practically guaranteed to have, and he fell short, just as he did with everything else. 

People noticed.  
He played it off as nothing and shrugged it off with and an air of nonchalance.  
Why should he care?  
He knew he was fucked up. No one was terrible enough to deserve to be stuck with a rude, invasive asshole like him who didn't know how to be nice for more than 5 minutes.

So why did he care so much?

Nobody should have to be alone.  
Everybody deserves somebody.  
Except for him. 

•°•°•

Evan Hansen started his junior year with his anxiety high and a target on his back.  
He was always in the line of sight for bullies, given his extreme social anxiety and awkwardness, not to mention his broken record stutter.  
Even as a junior, when he was supposed to have some form of authority or power, he got bullied. He was taunted and teased endlessly.

And he never fought back. Never even tried. How could he defend himself if he couldn't even get out a proper sentence telling them to stop?

•°•°•

Connor hunkered down and shoved past a group of huddled teen girls, whispering aggressively about ‘and then she said-’, to the back of the bus. Did they have to have their conversation in the middle of the aisle? With a sigh, he flopped into his usual seat, jerking over and nearly falling back into the aisle when his seat let out a very human noise. 

“I-I’m sorry! I didn't mean to be in the way! I c-can move!” 

He stared at the boy who made the noise.  
Wow, he was a fucking mess, wasn't he? The kid looked ready to bolt when he probably should have been pissed at Connor for all but sitting on him. Yet here he is, apologizing. 

He finally responded to the trainwreck teenager who he was apparently going to share his seat with.  
“Look, it's fine. I don't care. No point in moving anyways, you'd have to sit with one of these assholes,” He waved at the surrounding jocks and bullies, “and they'd be worse to you than I will. Y’know, putting aside the fact that I just sat on you and all.”

“Oh, uh, thanks for letting me s-stay…” 

Connor shrugged.  
“Sure.”

He glanced away and prepared himself for the uncomfortable bus ride, quickly putting headphones in and consequently blocking out the rest of the world, weird trainwreck kid included. 

•°•°•

The next day when Connor got on the bus to find the kid in his seat again, he acted like it was normal. Was it normal? Was this a thing now? The boy looked like a startled doe again, pressing himself nearly flat against the window.  
“S-Sorry, it's just that everyone has sort of assigned seats? The not really assigned but definitely sort of assigned seats where you don't sit where you don't belong or it gets uncomfortable and then people start to talk about you and it's awful and you have to decide whether or not to move, but if you move, you might be in someone else's assigned seat and-”

“Okay, slow down,” Connor cut him off. “It's too early for this shit. Calm down, maybe take a deep breath, a puff of your inhaler or some shit, and just...relax. I don't care if you sit here. It's public transportation, I can't exactly make you move anyways.”

The other boy was quiet for a minute before starting to speak up again.  
“Well, y-you could make me move, other people do it and the bus driver doesn't really care, but I appreciate you not doing...that.” 

Connor just shrugged. He seemed to do that a lot around this stranger.  
“I guess you're welcome.” 

Moments passed in awkward silence before the boy with the cast spoke.  
“My name is Evan?”

Connor stared at him.

“A-And you're Connor. I mean, of course you know that, you are Connor, I just mean that I know your name so you should probably know mine and wow, this is weird I should stop talking now, I'm sorry?” He looked like he was contemplating jumping out the window. 

“...uh, alright. Evan. I'm not surprised you know my name. I'm somewhat...infamous. Most people wouldn't be as weird about it, but I'm going to guess that's part of your charm?”

Evan laughed nervously and glanced out the window  
“R-Right. My charm.” 

•°•°•

They talked.  
Not all the time, not even every day.  
But they talked.

Over the phone, mostly, because it was easier for Evan to hold a conversation when he could proofread everything several times and think before he sent a text, and because Connor could take as long as he needed to reply if he got uncomfortable or simply needed time away from any kind of communication. They still talked on the bus, but most mornings were kept quiet and peaceful in mutual contentedness.

And it worked.

So they talked. 

They talked about school and the terrible pop music on the radio that they both secretly loved. 

They talked about anxiety and depression and how easy it was to feel alone, how easy it was to get isolated. 

They talked about a lot of things. 

And then they didn't.

It wasn't a conscious thing. 

It was school and their mental health taking a nosedive into the suffocating darkness that caused the messages to stop.  
It was a gradual thing.  
Longer space between replies, shorter answers and fewer questions. Less opinions and jokes. 

It didn't seem like it was a big deal. 

People fell apart all the time, right?

But when the one person you didn't totally hate talking to slowly drifted away, right when you needed them most…  
Well. Things got a little rocky.

•°•°•

Two big things happened that summer. 

Neither made the newspaper, or a particularly big impact on the community. 

The first thing that happened was this:  
A boy, only 17, is found in a park. He's slumped over on a bench, mouth full of pills and vomit, unconscious.  
Wrists raw and open, flowing with blood.  
Two different safety measures to be sure he would get one end result. 

They barely manage to save him. 

He is in a coma for a week. 

It takes his stomach being pumped, various medicines being forced into his system through an IV, and 27 stitches to keep him stable. 

He wakes up sad and confused. 

He has to wear bandages on his arms to protect the stitches and take medication now, to help him. 

To make him feel less alone.

 

The second thing that happens that summer is this:  
A boy, working his first job as a park ranger at age 17, falls out of a tree. He breaks his left arm and has to walk 2.5 miles back to the visitor center to ask his boss if he can leave work early to go to the hospital.  
His boss gives him a ride and leaves him with his mother, who's working a shift at the hospital when he checks in. 

He tells his mom it was an accident.  
He says he fell.  
He even starts to believe it's true. 

He is told he has to wear a cast for 7 weeks. 

Nobody asks to sign it. 

•°•°•

They meet up for senior year in the same seat on the same bus. 

They share a look and each spare a glance at the other boy's arms, before looking away and keeping to themselves. 

That night, Evan gets a text from a number that, although he hasn't received a message from it in months, is familiar.

Received 7:39  
So. What happened to your arm?

He waits nearly an hour before responding. 

Sent 8:26  
I fell out of a tree. 

Received 8:32  
Wow. That's fucking pathetic.

Received 8:34  
Not like I have much room to talk.

Sent 8:40  
It is pathetic.  
So um  
Sorry but your 

Received 8:49  
My arms?  
Tried to kill myself. Can you believe that?

Sent 9:12  
Oh.  
I'm sorry for asking  
Sorry  
I’m glad it didn't work though?  
I'm sorry I should just  
Goodnight Connor.

Received 11:45  
Bring a sharpie tomorrow.

 

•°•°•

“There. Now you're less pathetic. Not by much, but you have to start somewhere.”

“O-Oh, thanks…” Evan carefully traced over the name taking up nearly all of his cast. 

Connor shrugged, capping the sharpie and handing it over. “It's not just for you. I can't be seen with someone even more of a loser than I am. It does things to your reputation.”

Evan stared at him. 

Connor stared back.  
He sighed.  
“That was supposed to be a joke.”

Evan jolted.  
“O-Oh! Uh, ha, you're...really funny.” He tried to smile, but it looked more like a pained grimace. Connor just sighed again. “Sort of ruins the effect if you have to lie. Wasn't funny anyways. Forget it.”

Evan stared for another minute before turning to stare out the window. He spoke quietly.  
“Thank you for signing my cast.”

•°•°•

Sent 5:13  
My mom wants to meet you now and it's not my fault if she somehow gets ahold of you or something because she's like that and thinks it's good that I have a friend and I am so sorry maybe I can cover up your name or white it out or something?  
Just don't answer any Facebook messages from anyone with the same last name as me 

Received 5:48  
Oh that's who messaged me asking about you

Sent 5:51  
Oh my god  
You hate me don't you  
I'm so sorry just block her  
And probably me too if you want which you definitely do at this point sorry I'm sorry

Received 5:57  
You're really bad at picking up on jokes. She didn't message me Evan, calm down.  
And I'm not going to block you, alright?  
Jesus. 

Sent 6:39  
I really thought she messaged you  
Thank you for not blocking me 

Received 6:43  
Two things you do too much. Apologize and say thank you. You don't have to apologize for stupid shit and you don't have to thank me for other stupid shit. I'm not blocking you, because you're my friend. Or at least the closest thing I have to one. And you don't have to apologize for your mom, who you don't control.  
So just calm down.  
Besides, going to your house isn't the worst thing that could ever happen. 

Received 6:48  
At least it isn't for me.  
I guess it could be for you. I didn't think of that. 

Sent 6:50  
No no no  
It isn't  
I didn't mean for you to think that, I promise it isn't, I'm sorry!  
Oh god you said to stop that I'm  
Uh  
Not sorry  
I'm not sorry?  
But it isn't the worst thing, I promise, you can come over, I just thought you wouldn't want to because I'm just some loser you talk to out of pity and I didn't want to make it too big of a deal when it isn't one and  
It isn't the worst.

Received 6:52  
You're terrible at not apologizing.  
By the way, your mom actually did just message me. But I'm not really good with parents so maybe I can just come over to hang out with you before I have to talk to your mom? You said me coming over wasn't the worst so maybe we should do that. If you want.  
Not that I really care or anything  
Yeah, so. Whatever. Just let me know. 

°•°•°

Connor ended up coming over on a Thursday after school, when Evan's mom had to pick up a double shift at the hospital. It was undoubtedly awkward. 

“U-Um, so...this is my house? Well, it's an apartment actually, and it's not mine, it's my mom's but…”

Connor looked around. He noted the pictures hanging on the walls. “It's nice. Are those pictures of you?”

Evan blushed brightly and rushed to stand in front of them.  
“N-No! Definitely not. Of course not, why would there be pictures of me hanging up, ha, no, um let's go to my room?”  
Connor smiled a little bit and took another glance at an adorable picture of Evan as a toddler before reluctantly following Evan into his room.  
“I like your room. It's really...tidy.”  
His bed was in the center of the room, his dresser to the left and his nightstand to the right. Everything was nice and neat and the bed was even made. Connor could say, without a doubt, that he had never made his bed or kept his room this clean on his own.  
“Oh, thank you...when it's messy, it sort of makes my stomach upset? Sorry, that doesn't really make sense, I'm weird…”  
Connor carefully sat on one end of the bed before speaking. “No, it's alright. I sort of get it. Anxiety's a bitch, am I right?”

Evan laughed quietly.  
“Yeah. You're right.”

They ended up doing homework together and making sandwiches for a snack before Connor left. 

Both boys were happily surprised that they had enjoyed the afternoon. 

It was a good second beginning. 

°•°•°

The day Evan got his cast off, he didn't talk to Connor. He didn't bother to stop by his house or send a text or anything. Connor figured he had just had a bad day. 

He had no clue.

The next day, Connor got his bandages off and his stitches out.  
He understood why Evan hadn’t gotten ahold of him.

°•°•°

“Oh honey, this is wonderful! I knew you just had to hang in there until you found the right person! Now you should go tell Connor, I’m sure he'll be ecstatic!”

Evan just shrugged and carefully tugged his sleeve down, covering his newly healed arm.  
Covering the new name inked onto his skin where the cast had been, hiding for who knows how long. 

Connor

Written in Connor’s sloppy handwriting too, to make the sting of it all so much worse. Of course the universe had decided to screw him over. It had been going so well and, god, can't the world let him stay happy for a little while longer?  
Apparently not. 

 

°•°•°

Connor went to his room without saying hi to anyone. Not even Zoe, who he'd been talking to more, at Evan’s gentle persuasion and suggestion.  
Evan.  
Poor fucking Evan, stuck with an asshole like him. A loser like him. Waste of space, mistake, constant accident waiting to happen.  
How could somebody as sweet and overall soft as Evan have gotten stuck with him? The universe must really hate him.  
Would Evan ever talk to him again? Doubtful.  
He hated confrontation and making people uncomfortable. There was no way in hell he'd be the first to break and speak about this...problem.  
So Connor would have to do it. 

He would face the heartbreak and get it over with. 

For Evan. 

°•°•°  
“Evan? I have a letter for you...looks important. I'll leave it under your door for you. I'm heading out now for my night shift...money’s on the table. Please don't stay in there all day. I love you. Goodnight, sweetie.”

Evan didn't get the letter until he heard her leave. He assumed it was from his school or some college he’d never get into.  
Until he saw the handwriting. 

 

Evan.  
I know you don't want to see me. I know why, too. The names come in pairs, you know.  
I'm sorry. I need to say that first. You deserve to be with someone sweet who will take care of you and love you and who would do anything for you.  
I can't be that.  
You know that as much as I do. I'm broken and I can't be fixed.  
No amount of meds or therapy is going to turn me into someone deserving of you. I wish it would, but it won't.  
This is probably my fault anyways. I know personal emotions play a part in this whole ‘soulmate’ thing, and yet I went and got attached anyways. It's stupid and cliché but I fell for you and look where it got us. Where it got you. 

I'm sorry, Evan. 

I don't want to give this to you because I want to pretend that I have a chance with you, but I'll do it anyways in the hopes that you can move on from this and know that I’m not mad at you, I don't blame you or expect you to pretend to love me, so you don't even have to think about me again.  
Pretend this never happened.  
I've heard these things fade eventually when something like this happens. 

So please.  
Forget me. 

Forget me and I'll try to forget you, Evan Hansen. 

I'm sorry this is so pathetic and emotional, I'm sorry if it makes you upset or makes your anxiety flare up.

I'm sorry.

Goodbye, Evan.

Sincerely,  
Me

°•°•°

He was almost asleep when he heard the knocking on the door, then his mom opening the door and a surprised, “Evan, honey, it's almost midnight, what are you doing out? Are you crying? What on earth is going on?” He knew he should get up. He should go downstairs and explain this whole mess and then Evan will leave. He probably didn't get the letter, or maybe he didn't realize it was from Connor? He knew he should have signed it.  
Fucking idiot.  
He had almost decided whether or not he was going to be a coward and stay in his room or be brave (for once) when he heard footsteps on the stairs.  
Too timid to be his mom's or dad’s, but too hurried to be Zoe’s.  
So Evan. 

Hurried knocking, just soft enough to be questioning but still in a quick enough succession for Connor to tell that it was Evan. 

Connor curled up tighter under his blankets, hoping Evan would assume he wasn't home, despite his mom no doubt letting Evan know that he was indeed home, and had been since he dropped off the letter that afternoon.

“Connor? A-Are you there?”

And fuck if that didn’t hurt.  
Hearing Evan say his name.  
Hearing the stutter, so rare around him with how close they had become.  
Fuck.

“Your mom s-said you were, so I’m coming in n-now, okay?”

Connor stayed as still as he possibly could, wishing the mattress would open up and swallow him.

He felt the bed dip near his feet.  
A hand gently patted the blankets.  
“Where's your head? I don't w-want to accidentally hurt you or touch your...not head.”

He sighed softly and gave up on his hopes of Evan leaving him to his misery.  
“Up here.” 

Evan carefully nudged his shoes off and scooted over by Connor’s head, sitting cross-legged. He slowly pulled the blanket back, uncovering Connor’s face.  
Connor squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look at Evan. He knew if he saw him, he'd start crying again and he'd spent the past couple of hours crying already, he was tired of it. 

Evan gently brushed his hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear.  
“I'm sorry.”

Connor leant into Evan's hand despite himself. He kept his eyes closed as he spoke.  
“You shouldn't be. It's all my fault. I'm sorry, Evan.” 

Evan folded the blanket back and laid beside Connor, pulling the blanket back around them. 

“Y-You shouldn’t be. It's me too. I did it.”

Connor tried to roll over, away from Evan.  
“You don't know what you're saying. It's my fault. I'm the one who had some stupid teenage girl crush on his best friend. It's my fault. Please just let it be my fault, Evan. “

Evan grabbed his shoulder, still being ever-so gentle.  
“Connor. I did it too. I thought you knew, actually…”

He refused to get his hopes up. He pulled the blanket back over his face.  
Unfortunately, Evan just followed him under the blanket. 

“This is my chance to be brave. I'm not letting this...this us pass me by. I-I can't. I just can't. Connor. I liked you too. I like you so much that instead of butterflies, I get these awful b-birds or maybe wasps, and they sort of make me sick b-but I don’t actually mind because it's for you. You make me happy and I forget to be anxious or self-conscious around you. And when I do happen to remember around you? You bring me back. 

“Y-You calm me down and hug me or hold my hands and count with me and you let me wear your hoodies when I forget one and get self-conscious about how I look, and I even ask for them sometimes when I’m having good days because they smell like you and I’m s-selfish and kind of a creep. Connor, you bring me back. You keep me safe and make me feel...welcome. You make me feel like somebody would notice if I didn't come home. Like somebody would miss me if...anything happened. Please don't make me forget about you. I won't. I can't.”

Evan fumbled under the blankets until he found Connor’s hands. 

“Please? Just...can we at least try?” 

Connor finally opened his eyes. 

Evan was blushing and his eyes were rimmed red from crying. He was looking down at his and Connor’s joined hands. 

Connor let out a sniffle and gently squeezed Evan's hands. 

“You promise this is because you want to? Not because you see how stupidly pathetic I am now?”

Evan looked away from their hands, and at Connor. He nodded slowly.  
“I promise. Besides…I’m more pathetic than you. Your mom thought I was having a stroke because of how much I was stuttering. She almost didn't let me up here. I bet she thinks I’m a freak.”

Connor frowned and scooted closer, carefully wedging his legs between Evan's.  
“I doubt it. Don't say that. Right now is supposed to be...good. Just let it be good.”

Evan smiled a little bit.  
“Okay. Now can be a time for good things. Can now also be a time for sleep? It's sort of late…”  
Connor scooted closer to Evan, very gently kissing his cheek and making him blush even brighter red before ducking down and resting his head against the shorter boy’s collar bone.  
“Now can be a time for sleep. After one thing. Can...uh, could I maybe see your arm? I just want to see. To be sure that it didn't change or fade or....leave. Please?”

Evan slowly held out his arm, letting Connor see his name in chicken scratch across Evan's arm where his cast once was.  
He couldn't help but smile a little bit as he held his own arm out for Evan to see.

They each took their time looking before finally laying back down, holding each other close. 

Connor was almost asleep, his head on Evan's chest, curled close, when he heard Evan whispering, probably assuming Connor was already asleep.

 

“Guess I got my adventure afterall. And my happy ending.” 

They fell asleep together, happy and warm and finally whole.


End file.
